Friday, 26 November 2010

A friend attendsto the tides as menare givento be accepted bywomen, as thoughthe receivingand the giving were one thing. To rest in suchun-self-regarding love must require great trust --the pure soul,and the bit of luckit takes to float all that you don'tyet quite knowin the greater sea of the notyet quiteknowing it. After the storms,the dawn will break coldand clear, once more the CommonMurres will flockthickupon the rocksand the shore.

The magnificent dedication in blue written in very small letters at the bottom escaped my dull vigil and frame of mind, which ofcourse have suddenly been over-buoyed, once I had read and re-read the poem.

Aditya, the very small and faint typeface in the dedication were meant to (almost) slip it past the watchful eye of the very modest and very soulful dedicatee, who is, as you know, never one to solicit such public attention.

Beautiful. More so each time I read her. For each time I do, I find something different. I can look at her from different angles and listen to her talking to me in different languages (those of the heart), each time.

Those word verifications are like clouds whose shapes mirror what is in our souls, I sometimes maybe almost think, so that good people seem to be the ones that see the good things that must have been hidden in them.

And if not to hide good things in them for us, why would Queen Google require them for entry to her Magic Kingdom?

But I think Murre is a better fit for a name, as the word comes close to the soft purring sound which is this bird's customary call. It's a very calm and soothing sound, to the human ear, almost a demurring.

Yes, as all who've already left comments have noted here, a beautiful poem -- and framed by such great photos. And so it seems again "the dawn will break/ cold// and clear" (but clouding up here now, another storm on the way, they say). Meanwhile, it's time this one "attends/ to the tides" ----